


Chemical Reactions

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is bothered by foreboding dreams concerning Blair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chemical Reactions

**Author's Note:**

> This story was first published in Come To Your Senses 3. 

## Chemical Reactions

by JM Griffin

Author's disclaimer: I do not own them, Sam I am. They aren't in my house. I don't own a mouse. I don't have a sou. But I'd know what I'd do... (if I owned them. :) 

Take note, this is NOT a death story. 

* * *

Chemical Reactions  
by J. M. Griffin 

As we entered the small grey building there was a whiff of cordite and then an ear-blasting explosion. I looked up to see Blair flung backward and slammed into the wall. I screamed his name and ran to him, scooping him into my arms and cradling his head on my shoulder. His eyes were wide open, staring up at me, sightless. I bent close and that was when I realized he was dead. 

* * *

I woke with what I'm sure was a bellow, sitting bolt upright in bed. 

"Whoa, whoa, Jim" Blair was saying groggily, obviously jolted from a sound sleep by my abrupt movement. "You okay man?" 

He sat up and tried to pull me to him, but I was still bound up in the horror of the dream. I wiped the back of my arm across my face, trying to brush away the lingering picture of Blair's dead eyes. I shuddered, then turned into my lover's embrace. 

"Bad dream?" Blair asked anxiously. "Jim?" He peered at me, his eyes luminous in the moonlit room, his brow furrowed. "Jim?" 

I gave myself a shake and huffed out a breath. Slumping back on the bed, I pulled Blair down with me. He nestled against my chest and I inhaled the grassy scent of his hair, vetiver and some other spice I didn't know. 

It wasn't long before his breathing evened out into sleep. I lay there holding him close, this boy-man lover of mine. Would he think I was nuts if I told him not to follow me into any small grey buildings? Maybe not. Blair is always so tuned into me; he'd want to know why, but in the end he'd do as I asked. 

Blair muttered against my shoulder and I snugged him to me. I thought about waking him a second time. I knew he wouldn't mind, but instead I closed my eyes and tried not to think of the dream. 

* * *

Blair gave me sidelong glances all the next day. I ignored him, trying to make some kind of headway with the investigation we were conducting. Three unsolved murders had been committed in the last 9 months and, since all three were stabbings, someone had decided they might be related and Homicide had dumped the whole thing in our laps in Major Crimes. I thought the connection was tenuous at best, but we were taking a shot at it. 

Blair, Captain Banks and I sat pouring over the pictures from the three crime scenes, trying to see the link Homicide had found. Blair leaned over and tapped the picture I held in my hand. 

"Where have I seen this before?" He pointed to a tattoo on the arm of the second victim, a young woman. 

"I don't know, Sandburg, where have you seen this before?" Simon tossed at him. 

I took a closer look. The picture was a bit fuzzy, but I could make out stylized fangs, a drop of blood coming from the tip of one. 

"Kindred," Blair said and Simon and I turned to look at him. "The vampire group on campus," he continued. "They call themselves Kindred; some of them have tattoos like that." 

Banks nodded in understanding, but I was still lost. 

"Wait, what are you saying? There's a group of kids on campus who think they're vampire's?" 

"More like they wish they were. They're sort of an off-shoot of the Gothics." 

"The Gothics?'" Now it was the captain's turn to be puzzled. 

"Yeah, you know. They wear black all the time - capes and cloaks and canes. Sorta the seedy side of the Victorian era," Blair could see I didn't have a clue. "Think Dracula, man," he expounded, grinning and waving his hands. "You know." 

"No, Mr. Sandburg, we don't know, but you're going to help us find out." Banks announced and Blair's grin just grew wider. 

* * *

I had the dream again that night. It was even more real this time. Brighter, more vividly colored. I woke to find myself hovering over Blair, staring down into his puzzled eyes. 

"Jim, you want to talk about this?" he asked quietly. 

I shook my head. Something kept me from saying anything. It wasn't just that I didn't want to scare Blair, though that was part of it. My instincts told me not to say anything. And if Blair has taught me anything it's to trust my instincts. 

"Nah, Chief, it was just a bad dream." 

"Twice in one week?" Blair asked as he sat up in bed. "You don't usually have nightmares. At least not ones that wake me up too." He reached out and ran a finger along my shoulder blade. "You're too tense. Let me give you a massage." 

Hell, he knows I can't resist a chance to touch him, to be touched by him. So I rolled over and let him massage my shoulders and back. Then, kneeling at my side, he gave exquisite attention to my thighs and calves, his agile fingers kneading and pummeling til I was putty in his hands. By the time he finished and lightly kissed the soles of my feet, I was on the edge of sleep. But when he straddled me again, the soft brush of his balls against my ass blew any notion of sleep from my mind. 

I flipped over and Blair gave me his wide-eyed look. 

"What'd I do?" 

I didn't dignify his all-innocence act with an answer. I just pulled him down into my arms. We kissed, but instead of moving into sex, I found myself cradling him, smoothing his hair back from his face, running caressing fingers over his mouth and nose. 

I can't get enough of him sometimes. I simply can't keep my hands off him. Blair calls it my "hyper-active tactile response." I just know something about his face makes me ache to touch him - the broad planes and high cheekbones, his full lips so definitively outlined, his deep-set, long lashed eyes. I'm drawn like a moth to flame. 

My fingers fluttered over his closed eyes and the damn dream popped into my head. Suddenly all I could see were Blair's pale, still features, blood leaking from his mouth, eyes wide open, seeing nothing. 

"Jim, Jim?" Blair had me by the shoulders, shaking me. "Jim, damn it! What's happening? Say something," he pleaded. 

I blinked and cleared my throat and Blair saw I was back with him. He collapsed forward on my chest and I wrapped my arms around him. His tears leaked down warm on my chest, but still I kept silent. 

* * *

I might as well have stayed home for all the work I got done the next day. I finally gave up and took off a little early. I was sitting on the couch nursing a headache when Blair came in. 

"Hey," he said flinging his keys into the basket on the stand by the door. "The Kindred are having a meeting tonight on campus." He saw me wince at the loudness of his voice and toned it down as he crossed over to me. "I thought I'd go and scope it out." 

He stopped and looked at me closely. "Hey, Jim. You all right?" Blair stepped around the end of the coffee table and sat down on it facing me. I closed my eyes at his intense scrutiny, but I could feel the warmth of him - my knees between his wide spread legs, his body leaning toward me. "Oh babe," he crooned. He reached out and began to massage my temples and my cock stirred at his soft breath on my face. 

Blair is careful about touching me, especially in public. But here at home, in my loft that he has made into a home for us both, he is much freer. Right now, I could sense he was exercising great restraint, trying to help me, but at the same time trying not to impose his own need. I opened my eyes. Blair had his head thrown back, his eyes closed. His mouth was slightly open, lips moist. I reached up and caught his face in my hands and pulled that velvet mouth toward me. 

We ended up gasping, sprawled out on the couch, Blair draped over me like a coverlet. But again we had stopped short of making love. I had stopped short. 

"Jim, Jim, tell me what's wrong. Please," Blair's voice cracked on the word. 

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. Instead I rolled out from under him and sat up, pinning him between my legs. Without speaking, I unbuttoned Blair's jeans, releasing his erection. He cried out when I brought my mouth down on his straining cock and for a moment his body relaxed, but then he twisted away moaning. "Don't, don't." 

"Blair, let me..." 

"No," Blair shoved me aside and surged up from the couch, fumbling to button his pants. His hands were trembling, but his voice was firm. "No, damn it. I want answers, not a blow job to placate me. Damn it, Jim, something's wrong. You're having nightmares and headaches and you haven't been able to make love to me for days." His voice had begun to quiver and he clenched his fists at his side to stop them from shaking. 

I sat on the edge of the couch, my hands cradling my aching head. The dream was such a small thing. I didn't have any reason not to tell him, except something inside me said no. I looked at Blair, totally at a loss for words. I couldn't blame him when he threw up his hands and stormed out of the loft. 

* * *

When Blair finally came home it was way after midnight. I was getting a drink of water in the kitchen. 

"Hey," I called out. 

Blair ignored me, tossing his keys in the basket and taking off his coat. It missed the hook when he tried to hang it up, but he didn't notice. He turned his back on me and made his way toward the couch. I noticed he was weaving slightly. 

"Blair?" I took a step toward him, surprised I wasn't smelling alcohol. Blair stumbled and would have gone down if I hadn't jumped to him. As if was I barely caught him. 

I swung him up in my arms and carried him the remaining few feet to the couch. Putting him down, I honed in on him, looking for any clues as to what might have caused his condition. He was unconscious, his eyes rolled back, his skin clammy to my touch. His sweat gave off a faint medicinal odor - iodine-like \- though that wasn't quite it. There was also the high sweet scent of blood, minute, but it was there. 

Running my fingers over Blair's face and down his neck, I found the source. Two small puncture wounds oozed dark blood. Something zinged through me and I jerked my fingers away and wiped them on my shirt. He'd been drugged; that was obvious. But how and why were something else. 

Blair moaned and reached up and clutched my t-shirt in his fist, pulling me closer. 

"Jim," his voice was heavy with the drug. He arched up and kissed me hard. 

His mouth was hot and strangely dry and I pulled away. An odd taste, almost metallic, lingered in my mouth. But Blair's hand was still wound in my shirt and he pulled me back to him for another kiss. The metallic taste was gone and the dusky scent that now poured off him was incredibly heady. I let him pull me down on the couch with him, let him come at me with hands and mouth and a need so intense it shook me. I tried hard to stay detached, but Blair's hot hands were roaming over my chest and back, his tongue was cool in my mouth. He unzipped my pants and any detachment I had flew out the proverbial window. We moved together with fierce purpose, Blair asserting control as he seldom did, flipping me over and taking me with quick hard thrusts that left me gasping. 

He came with a harsh growl and then slumped down over my back, totally spent. It took me a few moments to register how lax his body was, his hands dangling down my sides. I eased around to find him unconscious. 

A shudder of revulsion ran through me and I pushed him off me. The metallic taste in my mouth had returned and now grew overwhelming. I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up. 

It was a while before I made it back to the couch to check on Blair. Best I could tell he was in a normal, if rather deep, sleep. He looked innocent and sexy as hell, all at the same time. His shirt was down around his waist, still half tucked into his unzipped, but not unbuttoned, jeans. I noticed he had a long bloody scratch that ran across his shoulder blade and down his chest almost to his nipple. I couldn't remember scratching him, but we had been so out of control there was always the possibility. I had washed my face and hands in the bathroom, but I went ahead and inspected my fingernails for any traces of blood. None there, I put a finger to the scratch on Blair's chest and that funny zing ran through me again. 

I perched on the coffee table and watched Blair sleep, debating whether or not to take him to an emergency room and have him checked out. In the end I couldn't do it. What would I say? He'd been drugged? Assaulted? And I hadn't done it. I finally camped out in the nearby chair and went to sleep. 

* * *

Blair woke me about 5 a.m. retching. He must not have had much to eat because he went to dry heaves really fast. I sat with him in the bathroom and held him until he finally stopped. 

"Jim," he said sheepishly, when he could finally talk. "Did we, did I...?" 

"Yeah, you did. We did." I said, stroking his face with a cool washrag. 

Blair grimaced. "Did I... hurt you?" He looked shyly up through those long, curly lashes of his. I had to laugh. 

"I was a willing participant, Junior." I gave him. "You know that." My words seemed to put him at ease and he relaxed against me. 

It was getting uncomfortable on the bathroom floor, not to mention cold, so I urged him up and we made it up to my bedroom without further mishap. 

"Blair, what the hell happened last night?" I asked when we were warm under the covers. 

"Man, Jim, I don't really know." Blair laughed shakily. "I mean, I went to the meeting and all. Those kids were really weird. Most of them wore those dental prosthetic type fangs and white face paint. Sure I'd seen some of them around campus before and they had never bothered me, but up close they were eerie. It was as if they really believed they were vampires." 

"Did you get to talk to any of them?" 

"Yeah. I was introduced to their leader, this kid named Josh, right off. He was real young, seventeen or eighteen tops. I told him I was doing research for a paper on current subcultures and I wanted to study his group. He said fine and he... well, he started coming on to me, put his hand on my crotch. Told me he'd like to suck me dry. After that I got out of there as fast as I could and went back to my office." 

Blair took a deep breath and continued. "I felt kind of stupid because I hadn't gotten any information for you, but that kid really spooked me. Anyway, around midnight someone knocked on the door. I thought maybe it was you. I was still so pissed at you, I just yelled come in. I didn't think until I saw the white face and fangs." 

"Was it the kid?" 

"No, no. This guy was different, taller and a lot broader. I only got a quick glimpse of him before he..." Blair was shaking so bad his teeth were chattering. I pulled him closer, trying to warm him up. 

"Before he what? What did he do to you?" I probed. 

"It was so fucking weird. This guy loomed over me and I just stood there transfixed." Blair's voice had taken on a slightly slurred, dreamy quality. "My vision went fuzzy and I tried to move, but I couldn't. Then he grabbed me and opened his mouth. I could see something dripping from his fangs even before he bit me. Suddenly I was so turned on I thought I was going to explode. He straddled me and, damn, the sensation was so intense, I almost came in my pants." 

Blair shuddered as if to shake off the memory, then cleared his throat and went on. "There was another knock on my door, and Hank, the night watchman, called out to say he was locking up and the guy leaped off me. I thought he was going to run right out, but he stopped and turned back to me and ran his thumb down my chest - he had on some sort of finger cuff or something sharp enough to cut into my skin. Man, I couldn't think or move. All I could do was feel. He hovered over me for a minute, watching me. Jim, I..., I think he was gonna rape me. Then Hank called out to me again and rattled the door knob. And the next thing I knew, the guy was gone." 

Blair buried his face in my chest and I held him close. I wanted to ask more, to get to the bottom of this, but shudder after shudder ran through Blair and I didn't have the heart. 

"Shh, baby, Go to sleep." I whispered. "We can talk about it tomorrow." I held him, stroking his hair, until the shudders subsided and he slept. 

* * *

I went to work at the usual hour only after making Blair promise he'd meet me at the station at noon. I got busy reviewing the police reports of the three murders, trying to see if there was something I missed the first time. The victims, two men and the one woman, were all in their mid to late twenties, but each very different in looks and lifestyle. The three crime scenes were radically different too - a cemetery, a university dormitory and an abandoned, yet easily accessible corner store. 

There was almost no physical evidence. A black leather glove had been found near the victim in the cemetery, but there was nothing to link it to the crime. Still, I filled out a requisition to pull the glove out of storage. I wanted to see if I could use my senses to pick up something the crime lab might have missed or didn't recognize as pertinent. 

I had just pulled out the photos for another look when Blair came into the squad room. I watched him as he crossed over to my desk. 

Brown stopped him halfway. "Hey, Sandburg, what happened to you? You look like hell warmed over." 

Blair did look awful, his face was unnaturally pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. But what got me was the fine tremble in his hands and the strained look in his eyes. 

I grabbed my keys and hurried to him. "Hey Chief, glad to see you." It came out a bit too forced, but I didn't care. I just kept on going. "I'm starved, let's get some lunch." I caught Blair by the elbow and propelled him out the door. 

He went white at the sudden acceleration of pace and I ended up hustling him into the men's room even faster. I stood guarding the stall door wishing I could do more to help, while Blair puked his guts up. 

"Oh man, I feel like shit." he moaned when the nausea subsided enough for him to talk. 

"Chief, we've got to get you to a doctor." I told him, all the while wondering what he'd do if I just picked him up and carried him out of there to my 4X4. Blair saw my look and read my intention. 

"Don't even think about it." He ground out between clenched teeth. "I walked in here. I'll walk out." 

By the time we made it to my truck he could hardly keep going. He sat slumped in his seat not saying a word the entire way over to a clinic across town. I have an old friend who works there and, as I wasn't sure just what we were dealing with, I didn't want to advertise Blair's condition at the hospital near the station. 

* * *

"Jim," the doctor, Alec McLeod, grinned delightedly when he breezed into the exam room and we shook hands. "I couldn't believe it when they told me you were here. It's been what 2, 3 years?" Alec's dark brown eyes swept over me in one long appraising look, then moved over Blair. "What have we here?" 

"Alec, this is my partner, Blair Sandburg." 

Blair sat quietly on the exam table, his face flushed and eyes dilated. If I hadn't known better I would have thought he was stoned. 

"Blair's a police observer and last night he was out at the university doing some looking around for me. And I... we, ah, think he was drugged." 

Blair said not a word as the doctor made him peel off his over shirt and t-shirt and started his exam. Alec's eyebrows shot up when he saw the puncture wounds on Blair's neck. 

"This is a human bite, am I right?" Alec asked me. 

There was a lump in my throat so I just nodded yes. Blair looked so damn vulnerable lying there on the exam table, head back and eyes closed tight against the glare of the overhead lamp. The marks on his exposed neck were angry red welts in the harsh light of the room. 

"Best I can tell the skin was broken, but there was no penetration into the jugular." Alec noted, continuing with his careful examination. "I'll need to draw some blood; I want to run a toxicological. Something's obviously wreaked havoc on his system." 

He bent over Blair's arm and got his blood sample, then he ran his fingers over the long cut on Blair's chest. It made me uneasy to see Alec's tan fingers on Blair's paler skin. Alec is tall and surfer blonde, a very good looking man. We'd been lovers a long time back. Now, seeing his slim hands on Blair's body, as impersonal as his touch was, made me wince. 

"There's some sort of residue in this cut," Alec glanced up at me across the table and caught the look on my face. He gave me a knowing wink before he turned back to Blair. He took a tiny scalpel and scraped at the long weal, then cleaned it with a solution. Blair blanched, his fingers digging into the padding of the exam table. It killed me to see him hurting and I put a hand on his shoulder. Blair looked up at me and the mixture of pain and trust in his eyes was gut-wrenching. 

"Mr. Sandburg...," Alec had to touch Blair to get his attention. "Is there a possibility you were raped last night?" 

"No," Blair said softly. "No, Jim and I, we..." He looked away, embarrassed and Alec didn't pursue it. 

"And have you bathed since last night?" 

"Yeah," Blair's eyes were hazy, almost vacant, as he answered. He was much too docile and it scared me. Made me want to shake him till he was back with me, back to his old self again. 

"Well, do it again." Alec directed. "And this time scrub that cut until it bleeds freely. I've got an idea what the stuff in there is, but I can't be sure until I get the sample tested. In the meantime, the quicker you get it off, the quicker you'll start feeling better. You can put your shirt back on." 

Alec turned from Blair, gathered up his sample bottles and signaled for me to follow him out into the hall. 

"I'll put a rush job on the tests. It's been what, twelve hours, since he came in contact with the drug?" 

I nodded in agreement and Alec continued. "Then it ought to be wearing off soon. There's been nausea, vomiting, right?" I nodded again. "Be sure to get some fluids down him, you don't want him to get dehydrated. The date rape drug, GHB, tends to have similar side effects. Tell me, he's not normally this passive, is he?" 

"Not at all," I answered. 

"A bit young for you, isn't he, Jim? " Alec's eyes twinkled. "He can't be more than twenty-five, this partner of yours." 

I shrugged, refusing to be goaded, "Something like that." 

"I haven't seen you this gone on someone since Carolyn." Alec commented, flashing me that surfer grin that I used to find such a turn on. "You got it bad, Chief." 

The nickname startled me. I had forgotten Alec used it for me first. All those years ago, before Carolyn, before Peru or even the army. It had been a long, long way back - just after high school - my first experience with a man. His too. 

"Hey, Jim come back to me." Alec's expression had grown serious. "One of you has to be thinking clearly and your boy in there isn't going to be able to until the drug clears his system. So get him home and in the shower and scrub that cut clean. Then put him to bed." The knowing grin came back. "And try to keep your hands off him, Chief. I don't want that crap racing though his veins any faster than necessary." 

He pulled a prescription pad from his lab jacket and scribbled something down. "Look, I can't be sure of anything until I get the lab reports, so just to be safe, I want him on this wide spectrum antibiotic for a few days." He tore the sheet off the pad and handed it to me. "I should get the lab results back in a couple of hours. Until then take him home and keep him quiet." 

I nodded distractedly, glancing into the room where Blair was struggling to put on his t- shirt. I looked back to find Alec giving me a sharp, assessing look. He put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a small shake. "He's going to be all right, Jim. I'll call you with the results." He tossed over his shoulder as he headed across the hall to the adjacent exam room. 

"Thanks, Alec" I called after him. I went back in the room to find Blair fast asleep, his t-shirt on backwards. 

* * *

Blair slept most of the day once we got home and I indulged myself, sprawling out on the bed beside him, watching him sleep and taking an occasional catnap. 

He woke about six p.m., energy plus and ravenous, so I made dinner for him for a change. Blair chowed it down almost without tasting it as far as I could tell. I watched as he ate, inwardly relieved to see him bouncing back like this. 

"Damn, we took a shower together, you scrubbed me down and I slept through most of it. Life's not fair." Blair complained with some intensity. I didn't comment, glad he had been so out of it. It hadn't been pleasant to scrub that cut clean. 

Blair bounced and prowled around the loft for about an hour before he finally grabbed his jacket and keys. "Look, Jim, I'm going for a walk and then maybe to the cinema. I can't stand the quiet in here," he announced. 

I wanted to jump up and bar the door with my body -- to make him stay in where it was safe and I could keep an eye on him. But I just looked up from the file I was studying and said "Okay, Chief." And out he went. 

Alec called about thirty minutes later. 

"Ellison, we're in luck. I'd given up hope, but the lab report came in just as I was leaving for the day." 

"What was it?" 

"A designer drug, mostly that old standby Spanish fly, laced with a derivitive of Rohypnol. Very dangerous and very illegal, of course. It's entire purpose is to heighten tactile sensation. Makes for very potent, touchy, feely sex. You two must have had a great time last night. Anyway, the aftereffects are vomiting and lethargy. Too much - and here we are talking megadoses - can make a person go to sleep forever. After the initial hyper-active tactile response, of course." 

Alec's choice of terms left me standing with my mouth open. How many times had Blair used those very terms talking about me? 

"I take it your boy's okay now?" 

"He's not a boy, Alec." I growled. 

"Could have fooled me, Chief." 

"McLeod," I warned, but he just laughed. 

"It's okay, Ellison. I won't tell anyone you're banging a kid." 

"Damn it, Alec, he's at least 27. He's not a kid!" 

"You don't know, do you." Alec crowed. "Leave it to you, Jim, not to know his age." 

"I know his birthday." I knew better than to let him get to me, but I couldn't help myself. 

"Month and day, but not the year, right?! Ellison, he's at least ten years younger than you. Means he was about ten when we were 20 and screwing each other under the pier at Malibu Beach." 

"Shit," was all I could say. 

Alec's peals of laughter came through the phone so clearly I had to hold it away from my ear. 

"I'm sorry, Jim," McLeod said after an age. "I shouldn't have kept after you like that, but even after almost 20 years, you are so damn easy to bate." 

"Shit," I muttered again, feeling like a fool. 

"Okay, back to business," Alec's quicksilver voice had gone professional again. "This drug has to be introduced subcutaneously. That's why the long cut. Somebody wanted to make sure your boy..., sorry," he caught himself and began again. "Somebody wanted to make sure Blair was ready and willing." 

"What about the marks on his neck?" 

"Same story. Oh, there was a minute amount of human saliva mixed with the drug in the bite. I tested Blair's blood sample for STD and it was negative, so you don't have to worry about that." 

God, his words made my blood run cold. I hadn't even thought of it. 

"Jim? You still there?" Alex asked sharply. 

"Yeah," I said dully. 

"Ellison, snap out of it. It's just a safety precaution. Get a grip, man." 

"Okay, okay," I breathed. 

"Look, I gotta go. Take care of your... of Blair. And yourself, my friend." 

"Yeah, and Alec..." 

"What?" 

"Thanks, thanks a lot." 

"Don't mention it." 

* * *

Blair wandered in about 10:30. I was taking a shower so I didn't hear him until he entered the bathroom. He shed his clothes and stepped in with me. 

I held him close for a few minutes, letting the hot water wash over us both, reveling in the feel of his skin against mine. Then I picked up the soap and began working up some lather in my hands. He took it from me - lather and all and soaped me down. His hands were sure and sweet on my back and shoulders and belly and thighs and finally my groin, lathering and stroking until I was so hard I thought I would scream. 

Then he took me in his mouth and I did scream, as I came and came and came. 

* * *

I had the dream again that night, the whiff of cordite and the explosion and all. But this time when I went to grab Blair, the world shifted with a curious, head-spinning sensation and I found myself looking up into Blair's face instead of down at him. His eyes were still unseeing voids, but then his mouth fell open and I saw the blood on his fangs... 

I came to consciousness with Blair hanging over me, calling my name. It took me a minute to truly focus on him, to see the concern in his blue eyes, the tenseness of his mouth. I looked away then, a lump in my throat. 

"God damn it, Jim" Blair swore, "Don't do this to me again. I can't stand this "light's out, no one home" act." 

His words jolted through me. God, hadn't Carolyn said something very similar not so very long ago? I grimaced and Blair reacted by pulling back and lifting his chin. 

"Damn," I could hear the hurt and bewilderment behind the anger his voice. "Goddam..." He flung himself out of the bed and practically threw himself down the stairs. 

"Blair!" I called out and I was up in a flash after him. "Blair, wait." I got half way down the stairs when I missed a step and slid about three more before I could catch myself. I recovered my balance to find Blair standing at the bottom looking up at me. 

"You hurt?" he asked quietly. 

"Nah," I walked down the rest of the way and put my arms around him. "I'm sorry." 

He stayed stiff in my embrace. "Why are you sorry?" he asked sullenly. 

"Blair," Damn, I love the kid, but sometimes he really tries my patience. "Look, Blair, I'm don't mean to shut you out, but something is going on in my head and it just hasn't felt right to share it with you." 

"In your head?" Blair's eyes narrowed in concern. "With your senses?" 

"No," I said hesitantly, "in my dreams." 

He pulled away to get a better look at me. "In your dreams? You mean like premonitions." 

I blinked at him, though I don't know why I was surprised. This was not the first time I had given Blair a tiny bit of information and seen him jump immediately to the correct conclusion. 

I walked over to the couch, trying to collect my thoughts. Blair started to follow, then stopped. "Just a minute," he said and headed back up stairs. He came back down wearing one of my sweat shirts with his boxers and carrying my robe. 

"Put this on, you're freezing." He ordered. 

He was right and I did as instructed, marveling that he could think so clearly while we were in the middle of a disagreement. "Okay, no more bullshit, Jim. Talk to me." 

"Blair," I stepped close to him, hands stretched out toward his face, but he sidestepped me and went over and sat on the arm of the couch. 

"Tell me what's got you so spooked, Jim" Blair said gently. He looked up at me with those incredible eyes of his, but I just shook my head and frowned. 

"It's death, isn't it? That's what's got you running scared, right?" Blair took a deep breath and kept going. "Okay. So whose is it? Yours? Mine?" 

I stood looking at him, unable to do anything more than shake my head. The scent of his hair, his slow, steady pulse, the very presence he exuded, washed over me and I let myself zone out on it. 

"Jim," Suddenly Blair was there, two inches in front of me. He went up on his toes and kissed me gently, then fiercely. I dug my hands into his hair, holding him in the kiss until he moaned. His hands cupped the back of my head, his sweet body was pressed full length against mine. 

God, the sudden image of Blair dead, like in my dreams, flashed in my head, scaring me so bad I rocked back away from him. A rush of tears came to my eyes and I turned from him quickly so he wouldn't hear my sob. I sank to my knees, overwhelmed by the desolation that consumed me. I didn't want him to die, couldn't stand for him to die. And some how my senses were telling me that was what was going to happen. I knew it in the Sentinel part of my brain and it scared me beyond imagining. 

How could I stand to lose him? How would I live without him? In the few months we had been lovers, I had come to recognize Blair as a necessary part of myself. Like an arm or a leg, or kidney or heart. That was it. He was an essential part of my heart. He was embedded in my soul. To lose my guide, lover, friend, would be to lose myself. 

Smack. Blair slapped me so hard it made my head reel. Even then it took me a few more seconds to focus on him; I had been that caught up in my tortured thoughts. He was kneeling in front of me, his face wet with tears. But his expression was calm and hyper aware. 

"Stop it," he said clearly and with great intensity. "Don't do this to yourself. To me." And then his intense concentration broke and his lower lip quivered. It was that lip that did it for me, that tiny betrayal of his own upheaval. I couldn't keep him locked out any longer. 

"You," I whispered hoarsely. Unable to look him in the eye and say it, I averted my gaze from his face. "It's you." I took a deep breath and swiped at my face. "I keep seeing you dead. In my dreams, but with my Sentinel sight." 

Blair didn't respond immediately and his silence made me look at him. There was a frown of concentration on his face and it was obvious to me he was busy analyzing the data. Still, when he spoke he sounded so analytical I was startled. 

"Yeah, yeah, that makes sense." He nodded to himself. "A Sentinel is above all a watchman, so a premonition of upcoming danger and death falls right in with that. Sort of like predicting the weather. Not so different at all, really." Now he was in Guide mode, figuring it all out and getting excited. "And if you're ready, prepared even, disaster can be averted." 

He looked up at me then, his eyes glowing, "You just gotta put it all together, man. The how and why of it. And then I'll be okay." He rolled his shoulders as if to shrug off some weight that had been resting there. I couldn't help but be relieved. Blair hadn't yet failed me with his unerring capacity to make sense of the mess that is my Sentinel ability. 

He smiled sweetly at me and rose to his feet, but not before grabbing my hand and pulling me with him. "Bed, lover, and sleep." 

I didn't say a word and he led me into his own small room. I slept curled in his arms and I didn't dream. 

* * *

I woke to the smell of bacon. My feet dangling off the end of Blair's single bed. I still had my robe on, so I followed my nose into the kitchen to catch Blair holding a spatula and dancing around the kitchen to whatever music was coming over his earphones. I took a step back into the shadows and watched him. He had his hair pulled back, making him look deceptively serious. His mouth was relaxed and happy as he moved with liquid grace to music only he could hear. He was so beautiful it made my gut ache. 

I was about to step forward when the door to the loft blew open with the force of an explosion. To my horror, Blair was throw back against the refrigerator, his head hitting with a dull smacking sound. I sprang from my hiding place, wondering where in hell my gun was. I ducked around the bar and stopped short. A figure in an enveloping cape hovered over Blair. God, where had he come from? I had been looking straight at the door and hadn't seen him enter. 

I leaped at the man, but he turned before I made contact, looked at me with eyes dark as night. Those eyes caught me, arresting my forward movement and almost sending me to my knees. I only just caught myself with a hand on the edge of the counter. The smell of blood filled my nostrils and my vision went strangely blurry. I wanted desperately to leap at the cloaked man and pummel him, but my muscles simply would not respond. I could hear my own pulse roaring in my ears, blocking out all other sounds. 

I shut my eyes away from the intensity of the midnight eyes boring onto me, from the sense-altering presence before me. But the intensity of sounds and smells (the bacon was burning) filled my head. I licked my lips and found the taste of blood in my mouth. A cold shiver ran down my spine and I squeezed my eyes even more tightly shut and, one by one, shut down my senses: first sight, then sound, hearing, smell and finally touch. Then, just as I was floating free, I grounded myself again and opened my eyes. The psychic vampire had turned his back to me, but I could see the glint of metal as he hovered over Blair's prone body. Focused only on my will, I completed my earlier aborted leap. 

The man whirled around as I attacked and it was only luck that he missed me with the ornate knife he wielded. He wasn't the least bit fazed by my quick move and slashed at me again, only the thickness of my robe keeping me from getting flayed. I avoided his eyes and tried to keep my senses under control as I grabbed at his hand, trying to wrest the dagger from his grasp. He was strong and lithe and even with my hand on his forearm he managed to step forward, forcing me back. My hand slipped and the dagger point caught me in the upper chest close to my armpit. The move was his undoing, because I accepted the blade and shoved at him - going for his throat with my hands. I grabbed his head and broke his neck without a second thought, growling as I did it. His body hung limply from my hands for a second before I flung him to the floor and started toward Blair. 

Blair's eyes were open and for one terrible moment I thought I was seeing the horrible sightless gaze from my dreams. But then he blinked and I realized he was staring at me and the horror in his eyes was due to the sight of me, the dagger impaled in my chest, blood dripping down the robe. 

"I'm okay," I said hoarsly as I sank to my knees in front of him. 

"Shit," Blair said faintly, but with great feeling, "Shit." 

I started to laugh in relief, but that made the dagger tear at my flesh. Seeing the look of pain on my face, Blair staggered up and over to the phone to call 911. On his way back to me, he stopped and fearfully eyed the body of the cloaked man before he stepped carefully over it and turned off the burner under the bacon. 

"Can you move?" Myguide asked very softly and I nodded, thinking disjointedly that Blair's head must be aching from the blow he had taken. "Good, come over here." He helped me up and led me out of the kitchen, taking care not to touch the vampire as we passed his corpse. 

I sat on the couch in a daze, thinking I shouldn't be sitting there bleeding on it, until the paramedics came and hustled me away. 

* * *

I insisted on coming home that evening, though the doctor hadn't wanted to release me. The dagger had pierced through the fleshy part of my chest near my underarm, sparing me any muscle damage. Curiously, the pain had never really registered. I guess when I shut down my senses I had somehow shut down my pain response. 

I was glad to be in my own bed, but Blair kept flitting around driving me crazy. 

"Be still," I snarled the third time he came up to check on me. "And no, I don't want anything." 

Blair closed his mouth with an audible snap and such a hurt look settled on his face I had to relent. "Blair baby, come here." 

He sat gingerly on the edge of my bed, facing me. "Tell me again about the vampire." I asked. "I wasn't very coherent when you and Simon explained it in the hospital." 

"His name was Christopher Trent. He has a history of mental illness." Blair gave a short, sharp laugh. "Can you believe he worked in a blood bank? He really must have thought he was a vampire! Anyway, they can't be sure yet, but the dagger he used is probably the murder weapon from the three stabbings. Jim, you were almost his fourth victim." Blair shuddered and I reached out my good arm and touched his face. 

"No, you. You were the one he wanted." 

Blair gave a shaky laugh of acknowledgment. "In more ways than one. Turns out he'd had sex with all his victims. No force used, but rape all the same." 

"You got lucky," I said softly, running my fingers down his cheek. 

"No, not lucky," Blair whispered, turning his head so my fingers caressed his lips. His hand came up and he took my hand and kissed my palm. "More than luck, man." He whispered against my skin. "I have you." 

**FINIS**

* * *

End Chemical Reactions. 


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